A bump stirred Arturo, and he groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. His mind was foggy, and it took him a moment to realize he wasn’t in Carhan anymore. Not wanting to move too much, he looked around as much as he could without moving his head and quickly realized he was in a cage.

  Horses were walking beside his prison. Memories of what had happened came back, and he recalled being hit by a dart and then collapsing. His sword was missing, along with his armor. He felt naked, despite having clothes on. What was going on? Who had captured him and why?

  I won’t learn the answers lying here. Arturo thought. He pulled himself up and leaned against the cage. His vision blurred as the poison wasn’t completely out of his body yet. A quick glance at one of the riders next to him revealed a woman. It didn’t take him long to realize all the riders he could see were women, wearing armor similar to what he had seen in Carhan.

  “He’s awake,” one of the guards said to another. They both rested their hands on the hilts of their swords.

  “What am I doing here?” Arturo asked.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” the guard replied.

  Any other attempts to get answers were either ignored or met with threats to be quiet, or he’d be hit with another dart. Arturo decided to keep quiet. He would learn nothing if he was knocked out again. There were at least a hundred soldiers from what he could see, probably more. Who were these people?

  All of them wore fine armor, so they were likely funded by some rich lord—at least that’s what Arturo assumed, as he doubted they were all nobles. What could he have done to warrant capture? The only thing he could think of was when he had defended himself against guards in Moontani, but that was over a couple of years ago. Surely that wasn’t why they had come after him?

  There were other possibilities. Perhaps he had killed someone in a battle, and this was revenge. That wouldn’t surprise him. Arturo had killed many people since Arindall and he imagined the numbers would grow, for he couldn’t die, not until he killed Kyrad Durmaddon.

  His thoughts were interrupted when the horses stopped abruptly. Arturo looked to his right and saw a group of thirty more guards, escorting another cage. He couldn’t tell who was in it and wondered if they had been taken for the same reason as him.

  “Put the prisoners together; we need to rest for a bit,” someone said and kept riding down the line, repeating the same message to all the other riders.

  Arturo saw the horse move him closer and closer to the other prisoner and was placed within five feet of the other prison. Around twelve guards remained and, once the others had left, he got a clear sight of the prisoner.

  “You!” Arturo growled and stood, ignoring the pain as his head slammed into the top bars. He rushed forward, reaching his hands through the bars, seeking the other prisoner’s throat. The cage rattled, and the guards began to yell at him to get back.

  He ignored them. Arturo had to break through this cage. Sitting in the other prison was the one man he needed to kill. It was Kyrad Durmaddon, who was looking at him with his mouth agape. “I’ll kill you!” Arturo shouted, trying to stretch his arms out further. It was too far away; there was no way he could reach Kyrad.

  “Put him down!” someone yelled.

  I’m so close; all I need is to get a little closer… Arturo strained with all his might, feeling the cage rattle and start to tip. To his credit, Kyrad didn’t look frightened; he simply looked amazed. Something sharp hit the back of Arturo’s neck.

  No, I need… Arturo felt his eyes beginning to droop, and his arms failing. “I… must…” were the last words he spoke. The last thing he saw was a bar as his head slammed forward, and then there was nothing but darkness.

  How is he alive? Kyrad thought, watching the giant man known as Arturo go completely numb as the poison dart did its work. He didn't understand; Arturo should be dead. There was no way he could have survived his injuries! Yet, here he was, alive and well.

  The attack on him was no surprise. The moment he saw Arturo, he knew the man would react like a fool. That was apparent when he met Arturo back in Talin Grad. Kyrad turned to one of the guards, who was looking at Arturo warily. “Well, that was fun,” he said with a smile.

  The guard looked at him angrily. “Be quiet, or you'll be next,” she said.

  Kyrad raised his arms in surrender. “Apologies, I meant no disrespect,” he said, and leaned back against his prison. These people were touchy, and he still didn't know why he was taken. No one had said more than a few words to him since his capture.

  All he knew was that these women had captured him specifically. His companion, Buthomar, was also hit by a dart but left behind. Kyrad felt sloppy for allowing himself to get captured so easily. It begged the question as to why Arturo was captured.

  Another guard came up, one that Kyrad recognized. Her name was Salamina, and she was one of the higher-ups of this little band of warriors. The Swords of Justice were what they called themselves—a woman-based group who traveled the lands doing things he didn’t understand.

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  “It's time to move. We should make it to Dalshor, where we can put these two in proper cells,” Salamina said and glanced at Arturo. “If he acts up, shoot him with another dart. No warnings.”

  Within ten minutes, both carts were moving, though they remained within half a dozen feet of each other. Kyrad needed to get out of here. This was delaying his mission to retrieve the Sword of Cataclysm!

  The issue was that he hadn't found any way to escape without help. These people were smart, always leaving at least ten guards near him. If only one or two were watching him, he might be able to escape. But ten? There was no chance, not unless he could escape these bars and get hold of a sword.

  He sighed and leaned his head back. For now, he would have to wait until his companions rescued him. Kyrad was sure they were close to finding him. The journey was slow like all the others. No one to talk to, and all he could do was think. Water and food were given, but that was the most attention he got.

  Eventually, Arturo began to stir as he wakened from his little nap. Kyrad waited patiently for the large man to fully awake and, as he expected, saw the hatred in his eyes as he glared at Kyrad. “Do you need to be knocked out again?” Kyrad asked.

  “You need to die,” Arturo snarled.

  “Because I killed your brothers?” Kyrad allowed himself a chuckle. This simpleton was so focused on revenge that he saw nothing else. How a man like this survived this long was beyond him.

  “You killed my family. You'll pay by my hands,” Arturo said.

  “Tell me something,” Kyrad began, noticing the guards listening to their conversation intently. “How many brothers, fathers, sons, or various family members have you killed? How many families have you broken apart with your killing?”

  “That's different,” Arturo said.

  “Because you are the one who killed them? So, it's okay for you to do this, but it’s a crime when I do?” Kyrad pushed. He waited patiently for a response, of which there was none. So many people talked about justice when there was none. Not in this world. Things didn’t go your way because you believed in what you were doing. “What? Something preventing you from answering my question?”

  “You better hope we don't escape. If we do, the first thing I'll do is shove a sword through your chest,” Arturo said.

  “Ah, like the last time we fought?” Kyrad said. The anger in Arturo's face almost made him laugh.

  “Halt!” someone yelled, and the horses stopped.

  More guards came and jumped off their horses. “Both of you, be quiet,” Salamina commanded. Eleven guards accompanied her as she stood in front of Arturo's prison. “We're escorting you to your prison. If you try to fight, we'll knock you out again.”

  “I don't plan on fighting,” Arturo said.

  “I hope not,” Salamina said and motioned with her hands. Two guards opened the cage, while four stepped inside and took hold of him. There were three guards with their lips around blowguns, each with the same poison dart that would knock him out if he fought.

  To Kyrad's surprise, Arturo didn’t fight and was escorted into a large building. Fifteen minutes later, Salamina came back with six guards accompanying her this time. “Your turn,” Salamina said.

  Kyrad stood, and four guards came in, grabbing his arms and pushing him forward. He would have liked to fight but knew the futility of it. There were too many, and no way he could get a sword without getting hit by a poison dart. He was escorted into the same building, which was one big prison cell. On one side was Arturo, who was shackled to the wall. He was put on the opposite side of Arturo and had the same shackle put on his ankles and wrists.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Salamina said as she looked at Arturo. Then she closed the door and locked it. A dozen guards stood outside the door, and then they were left alone.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the area, and Kyrad decided to break the silence. “How did you survive your wounds?” He didn’t expect a serious answer but was curious about what Arturo would say.

  “Tarmella willed me to survive so that I may kill you,” Arturo said.

  “Is that all you can think about?” Kyrad said with a sigh. This was going to be a boring discussion if it ended with 'I’m going to kill you' after every sentence. “I look forward to our rematch. You won’t survive next time.”

  “You won’t beat me next time,” Arturo said.

  “I will,” Kyrad said.

  Arturo said nothing and leaned against the wall. Kyrad figured that was the end of their conversation and twiddled his thumbs for what felt like hours. The door opened, and in came someone he hadn’t seen before. A girl with brown eyes, long brown hair, and shiny gold armor.

  “It’s time we spoke,” she said upon entering the prison. She looked at Arturo with slight annoyance, but there was fury in her eyes when she looked at Kyrad. “My name is Khaldoria, and I am the leader of the Swords of Justice. Do either of you know why you were captured?”

  “I wish I did,” Kyrad said.

  Arturo said nothing. Khaldoria continued as if this was the expected response. “You both committed heinous crimes,” she looked at Kyrad first. “The attack on Talin Grad was an atrocious act that you led. You killed many people, including my brother and nephews.”

  I’m good at killing someone’s family members. Kyrad thought dryly. Did these people not understand that that’s what happened in war? There was no battle where no one died. How she recognized him as the leader was something he wanted to know but decided to keep his mouth shut as he knew she wouldn’t answer, though he wondered what Arturo did to join him here.

  “And you,” Khaldoria whirled on Arturo. “Your crime is killing the guards at Moontani. One of my people's husbands was killed in that onslaught, and you will pay for what you did.”

  Killing guards? Kyrad looked at Arturo. There was no surprise, no denial, which meant it must be true. Why would a self-righteous guy like Arturo kill guards?

  “I had no choice, I—” Arturo started.

  “I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Khaldoria said before Arturo could say anything else. “You’ll both get a trial, and we’ll hear you defend yourselves. Perhaps you can convince us that you had probable cause; however, if we deem your excuses aren’t good enough, you will be executed for what you did.”

  Without another word, Khaldoria walked out of the prison. Kyrad waited until her footsteps faded into the distance. This wasn’t good. He had expected imprisonment but execution? With a sham trial by these people? His decision to await rescue might not be an option anymore. Khaldoria hadn’t told them when the trial was and how long afterward they would be executed.

  Kyrad stood up and saw the guards weren’t close enough to listen in on him and Arturo. “Hey, we could work together,” he said.

  To his shock, Arturo smiled. “You think I want to help you escape?”

  “You telling me you want to die?” Kyrad countered.

  “As long as I see you die first, I don’t care if I live or not,” Arturo said.

  What a fool. Kyrad wanted to curse this man but stopped himself. Any hopes of escaping were minuscule, even if Arturo helped. Was he going to die here, with the Sword of Cataclysm not far away? No, I’ll get out. I just need to think of something. If he didn’t escape, then his dreams of conquering these lands with his father would disappear, and he would be another nameless Durmaddon who died before the great war of Aidris.